


Lonely Is The Night

by noblescientist



Category: Dirge of Cerberus: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Gen, Guilt, So much guilt, the summary should give all the necessary warnings i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 12:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7845334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noblescientist/pseuds/noblescientist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t the first time Vincent Valentine had stared down the triple barrel of his own unique gun, but it might be the last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lonely Is The Night

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a line from a certain fic about friendly fire. My first thought was, "that probably wouldn't be such a big deal for Vincent, except maybe with his own gun," and my second thought was, approximately, "oh no."

He was tired.

He debated simply returning to his coffin and sleeping for a few more decades, but then who knew how far technology would advance this time, and leave him behind once more? He didn’t want to catch up. He didn’t want to make new friends, or discover his old friends were now as old as he had chronologically been when they found him, or worse yet, already dead.

He was tired. He didn’t want to sleep, but he was tired.

Surely the Planet didn’t need specifically him anymore. It had Cloud, and Tifa, and in some incorporeal way, Aeris. There was even Genesis, its self-proclaimed Protector. Heroes were born and made all the time. He was no hero, only a barrier, keeping Chaos at bay.

Chaos, the very reason he was so tired. Chaos wore at the inside of Vincent’s mind, making him doubt himself, frustrating him, making him paranoid, popping up in every mirror until he practically forgot what he looked like.

Chaos, which had lain in wait for years, since the last time he needed it.

He was tired. He turned Cerberus over in his hands, caressing the fine detailing, and finally pointed it at his face so that he was staring into the triple barrel.

He was tired.

Chaos cackled shrilly in the recesses of his mind, and he pulled the trigger.

* * *

Vincent opened his eyes to find himself in a field. He sat up, confused, and looked around. He touched an ungloved hand to his face and found no blood. He had been sure he was conscious when he shot himself, he thought, and he had definitely been in his own room, so that must mean that he was, in some way, unconscious now.

A gasp from behind him startled him, and he whirled around, getting to his feet in one fluid motion. He found himself staring at none other than Aeris, whose brows were knit with worry, with a hand over her mouth.

“Vincent? No, you can’t be here. If you’re here, who’s guarding against Chaos?” The worry in her tone was clearer than he had ever heard it. “Why are you-- what happened?”

Vincent inexplicably felt like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Chaos won.”

Aeris’ face was a mask of confusion for a moment, but then it became resigned and more than a little sad.

“Vincent. I’m sorry for everything that’s happened to you, but the fact is, we don’t know what will happen if you actually die. Chaos could simply decide to let your consciousness die and hijack your body-- or suffocate your consciousness, somehow. The Protomateria--”

“The Protomateria is a fucking parasite,” Vincent hissed. Aeris only raised a brow.

“Vincent, I’m not going to insult your intelligence here. You know you did something incredibly dangerous by deciding to try to end your life. I also can’t afford to let you stay here for the same reason. We don’t know what will happen. You’re not Cloud. Your despair has long-term consequences, even when you don’t do something stupid. When you do, everyone else has to pick up the pieces, somewhat literally, and hope they can defeat Chaos. It may not be your fault you got saddled with the Protomateria, but you don’t get to decide how the world ends.”

“That sounds like you know what will happen,” Vincent deadpanned.

“I have an idea, yes,” Aeris snapped. “Do you really want to throw Chaos at Cloud, and have him find out how and why it happened? He will never forgive you. And then, because he’s Cloud, he’ll find a way to blame himself.”

Vincent looked toward the grass, suddenly unable to meet Aeris’ gaze. A silent hand found a way to his shoulder.

“Go home, Vincent. I’m sorry, but there is no room for you here.”

* * *

The knock on Vincent’s door didn’t rouse him, but he was aware when it burst open with a crash several moments later. He heard the string of muttered curses as his skull knit back together, helped along by a few frantic cure spells. After a few minutes of this, he recognised the voice as Cloud’s, and opened his eyes the moment he was able. Cloud was white as a sheet, shoulders trembling slightly, but his hands were as steady as ever. When he realised Vincent’s eyes were open, he held his gaze, hardly daring to breathe.

Vincent blinked several times, then swallowed to make sure his mouth still worked. Cloud was still staring at him. Vincent wasn’t sure if the apprehension was due to his fear for his friend, or fear of Chaos.

“Cloud?”  
“Yeah?”  
Vincent smiled bitterly. “Are sins ever forgiven?”  
Cloud let out a breath. “I’ve never tried.”  
“Cloud, I’m sorry.”  
Cloud’s brows drew together. “Vincent... I know talking only helps so much, but... please, talk to someone next time?”

Vincent didn’t ask how Cloud knew there would be a next time. He was right. He knew he was right. Vincent swallowed again.

Cloud sighed, trying to keep his voice steady.“I’m sure you don’t want to be mobbed with our friends, so I’ll keep this relatively quiet, but I’m going to tell Tifa something happened, and I need you to call someone if you need anything.”

Vincent nodded. Cloud was being reasonable. More reasonable than he felt he deserved.

“And don’t think you’re bothering us. I don’t care if it’s ‘I need to talk to someone’ or ‘I feel like eating soup but don’t want to make it myself’, we’ll help you out.”

The corners of Vincent’s mouth twitched up in a parody of a smile. “Thank you, Cloud. I promise I will.”

He couldn’t be sure if he had spoken to Aeris or if it was all in his head, but she was right: he could no more force Cloud to handle Chaos for him than he could get rid of it. He would make sure that he was the only one to hear the ominous laughter ever again. The frustrated undertones as he regained full consciousness only strengthened his resolve.


End file.
